


88

by phant0m



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, basically just a bunch of soft and fun twitter requests at the moment, more tags will be added as needed, with touches of some intensity and slight pain in places because this is enstars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phant0m/pseuds/phant0m
Summary: a collection of requests and other drabbles.(1. kaoshu + being with animals | 2. poly oddballs + laying your head on someone's shoulder | 3. leokasa + holding hands | 4. subanatsu + play fighting | 5. kaoshu + dancing | 6. izuritsu + cuddling / sleeping together | 7. natsumu + playing with hair | 8. shuleo + public displays of affection)





	1. silly, indeed | kaoshu

**Author's Note:**

> separate from my collection of enstars one shots, welcome to a collection of enstars drabbles! most of these will come from twitter requests, but there may be a few i write up and post here on my own eventually. if you ever want to talk, or send over a drabble request yourself, you can catch me on twitter as [kingsiderook](http://twitter.com/kingsiderook)!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! wabby requested kaoshu + being with animals together, preferably ducks. enjoy! ♡

"That we should feed wild waterfowl bread is a common misconception," Shu is saying as he palms Kaoru a handful of oats and seeds, letting his fingers linger against Kaoru's skin for only a split second too long. He sniffs delicately in that way he always does when talking about something he knows well, taking his own handful as well and setting the bag on the table behind them. "Humans are overindulgent to these creatures, unaware that their poor decisions have disastrous effects on both their health and their ecosystem."  
  
Kaoru blinks slowly at him, the wind stirring his hair. He'd proposed coming down to the school's pond to feed the ducks a mere few hours ago, when they were both still in class. Just an errant idea; it's a nice, sunny day, perfect for something like this, and he loves them. Their soft feathers and the way they all crowd around him like little children waiting for their turn. He hadn't expected Shu to come so well-equipped in more than one aspect, especially considering how critical he'd been of the idea at first. "Uh. When did you learn so much about ducks, Itsuki-kun?"  
  
Shu freezes, a light flush spreading on his face that belies Kaoru has stumbled upon something he shouldn't have. He casts his gaze at the ducks already advancing towards them up the incline, eyes narrowing as if facing down a foe. He certainly isn't going to admit that he'd spent the little time they were apart researching these hellish creations, so his tone doesn't waver when he answers. "Please, Hakaze. It is simply common sense if you know the first thing about how these animals live."  
  
A weighted pause. Then, as if finally comprehending the punchline to a joke a bit too late, Kaoru laughs, catching Shu off-guard as he leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. He thinks he hears an indignant noise, likely because they're still on school grounds, but he waves it off. "Right, right," he says with a grin. Sometimes it's best to let Shu believe the little white lies he tells himself. Constantly. "How silly of me to think you'd actually look something like this up, yeah?"  
  
Shu glances at him, eyes still narrowed and cheeks still pink. "Silly, indeed."  
  
It's endearing, watching Kaoru feed them. The sunlight plays off of his hair, his bright smile, and they flock around him in droves. He's terribly gentle and he always speaks to them as though they can understand any semblance of language. A few allow him close enough to pet their heads. A few have names Shu doesn't quite catch. He finds himself wondering, as he scatters the food far enough away that the birds don't encroach on his personal space, how often Kaoru has come here alone. How often Kaoru has sought comfort in things that aren't quite human, that can't wound but only love mindlessly, much like he does himself.  
  
Perhaps the idea that Kaoru thought to invite him along this time is cherished, or perhaps it isn't. Who's to say?  
  
"Y'know, you were right, Itsuki-kun," Kaoru says to him later as they sit on the bench of the table, watching the ducks mill about. Shu is far too prim and proper to be sitting on something wooden and years old with names of long-gone students carved into the surface. Kaoru is sprawled a bit too close to him, a hand on his arm that neither of them seem willing to acknowledge. One of the ducks is pecking around Shu's pant leg, searching for the last of the food. Is this one that Kaoru named? Shu can't quite remember. "Plus, I think they like you now."  
  
Shu clears his throat quietly, trying to minutely maneuver away from the animal in a way that doesn't betray his anxiety. "Of course I was right. Anything will become fond of you if you care for it properly."  
  
A knowing look flashes in Kaoru's eyes, far too knowing, latching on to something unspoken, but before he can speak there's a sound. An interruption. A flutter of damp feathers. A wet duck in Shu's lap.  
  
Kaoru thinks he may be one of the only people to have ever heard Itsuki Shu scream.


	2. watercolor | poly oddballs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! zene requested poly oddballs + laying your head on someone's shoulder. enjoy! ♡

It starts during the war. In the dim light of the Handicrafts room, Kanata curls up close to Shu's side. He's damp and cold, and Shu is working, and he's tired, tired, tired, but their presence is one of the very few things he can stand these days. So he shifts to accommodate, and Kanata rests his head on Shu's shoulder. His hair is wet, soaking through fabric. Shu's voice is too weary to be brisk. "What is it, Kanata?"  
  
A quiet sigh. An unusual sound to hear from him. His floaty voice distant. "I don't 'want' to 'talk' about it."  
  
Shu, more than anyone, can understand that. So they don't. They sit, and Kanata leans his weight against him, and eventually his shivering slows to a stop.  
  
Later, in a moment of weakness he would deny if he had the strength, Shu does the same to Wataru. He hasn't slept in three days. Wataru is broad, and warm, and wraps an arm around Shu's waist because he's much more comforting than Shu could ever be. His head laid on Wataru's shoulder. Wataru's hair smells like roses.  
  
His voice is low, a rumble. "How are you holding up, Shu?"  
  
A pause that stretches on for far too long. A tell. An exhale. Shu's fingers clenching, his eyes open but seeing nothing. "If it is all the same to you, I would rather not speak."  
  
"Of course."  
  
So they don't. They sit, and if Shu falls asleep, too exhausted to even have the decency to hold himself upright, they don't talk about that either.  
  
These are small moments, drops of watercolor on the canvas of time that bloom to form a pattern. A painting in abstract. Natsume leaning against Rei where they're seated in the crowd for the final showdown, tilting his face and burying his burning eyes in Rei's blazer when he can't bear to watch what's unfolding in front of him. Rei leaning against Kanata from where he's seated on the edge of the fountain, looking desolate and listless, as if he wishes for the water to swallow him whole. Natsume leaning against Shu in the cafe and dozing off, too full of pride and spite to ask for help even as he works himself to the bone chasing stars.  
  
It becomes an unspoken tradition. Nonverbal comfort. They don't want to talk, about this, about anything, but they need one another nonetheless. They all recognize it, and they learn to say nothing; only to be there. Gentle in all the ways they still know how to be. Trying to love the ache out.  
  
It should come as no surprise, then, that eventually such a habit manifests when they're all together. A night spent drinking tea and hiding, becoming phantoms in Yumenosaki's memory. The five of them in the secret underground archives, sitting in a circle as they delicately avoid the inky shadow of a subject in the very center of it, their faint laughter echoing amongst the books. They've made it some way down the road, struggling and bleeding and reaching out for one another with every step, but there is such a long way yet still to travel.  
  
In a lull of silence that feels fleeting and fragile, Kanata leans against Wataru. Wataru against Rei, Rei against Shu, Shu against Natsume, and Natsume against Kanata. The circle complete; linked. None of them speaking.  
  
Then, Kanata's voice, as gentle as the wisps of clouds that drift far beyond the walls that protect them. "We should 'talk' about it."  
  
So they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> references to magicians assemble, a kaoru substory wherein koga mentions kaoru looks as if he wants to drown himself in the fountain and states "sakuma-senpai used to look just like that for a period of time", and eccentric.


	3. extraterritorial | leokasa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! leo requested leokasa + holding hands. enjoy! ♡

The Archery Hall is extraterritorial, Leo had told him once. That explains, then, why they're allowed to stay even in the fading light of day, Leo sprawled artlessly across the floor and Tsukasa sitting politely next to him with his nose in a textbook. That's the pretense, anyway, even if his eyes keep sneaking over to ensure their mess of a Leader is still composing on the music sheets he'd provided and not the floor, yet again.

Even if his eyes keep lingering too long on how ethereal Leo's wildfire hair looks in the sunset, or the fact that he keeps sticking out the edge of his tongue as he hums to himself, gaze soft and contemplative. He's captivating, Tsukasa allows himself to think, when he's quiet.

Precisely thirty-three pages into Tsukasa's studying, Leo reaches over to pull one of Tsukasa's hands free from the book and hold it. Tsukasa's baffled look is met with absolutely no recognition that this event has, in fact, occurred. Leo is still composing with the other hand, hasn't even looked up at him. "Leader?"

"Mm? Keep it down, Newbie, you'll throw me out of orbit."

Whatever that means. Tsukasa clears his throat, patience waning, asking as if it should be obvious. It really should be obvious. "My hand?"

Leo stops for the first time all afternoon, blinking himself back into reality. His eyes are startlingly green when they turn on Tsukasa, brightened even moreso by a wide smile. "What about it?" Then, just as quickly as he'd captured Leo's attention, he loses it. Back to composing, back to acting as if there's nothing strange about this. "Your skin is really soft, you know." A thoughtful pause, a burst of energy. "Nn, maybe too soft? You should roughen up a bit! Battle, wage war, teach those hands how to wield a sword and draw blood like you did from your King during Judgment! You have a rebel heart, after all; you can't stay pretty and pristine forever, Suo~"

Tsukasa doesn't know why such an utterly nonsensical tangent flushes heat across his cheeks, but by now he knows better than to ask for clarification on absolutely anything Leo says. So he shakes his head, returns to his book, and allows Leo to hold his hand until night falls and the song is complete.

The song Leo titles, where Tsukasa can't see, in bold letters: REBEL HEART.

It keeps happening, after that, a predictable pattern no matter where they are. Leo composes. Tsukasa watches over him. He tells himself it's only to ensure Leo doesn't run wild, but the fact remains: at some point, Leo always reaches for his hand, and he feels as though he should be there to offer it. It becomes so familiar that after a few weeks, Tsukasa finds himself doing everything one-handed, the other resting palm up and waiting for Leo. 

He asks him only once why he does it, probing for clarity under the kotatsu in their practice room. Leo, ink smeared across his cheek and hair falling out of his ponytail, pointed canines in a smile, simply chirps, "I love you!"

Which is an answer, but it isn't an answer. Leo says the words all the time, as if they're welling up within him just waiting for a chance to spring forth from his lips. Tsukasa doesn't think much of it. In reality, he suspects from careful observation that it's a grounding mechanism. Leo always does it when he hits a snag in his work, when his fingers start twitching in that way that says he's about to wreak havoc in the name of inspiration or tear pages and scatter the pieces around the room like snow.

Instead, Leo reaches for Tsukasa's hand, and finishes the song.

Which is an answer.

It could even be the same answer.

Tsukasa _tries_ not to think much of it.

The Archery Hall is extraterritorial, Leo had told him once. That explains, then, why at midnight, only halfway through cramming for an exam and eyes glazed over words he's hardly comprehending, Tsukasa unconsciously reaches for Leo's hand.

That explains, then, why in the clouded strains of moonlight that sprinkle them like rain, Leo keeps composing even as he laces their fingers together with a smile.

The words in front of him are clear again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reference to robin hood, and vague inspiration from the segment of horror night halloween wherein leo mentions that listening to tsukasa helps him compose.


	4. another win | subanatsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! lucas requested subanatsu + wrestling / play fighting. i took some liberties with this, as natsume's method of "fighting" is more verbal than physical. enjoy! ♡

The potion is turning out well so far. Natsume hums in contentment, expression sharp with mirth as he carefully drops a few strands of black cat hair into the beaker and watches the swirling liquid within morph from crimson to a bright and sunny orange. This one, he thinks, might work.  
  
As if on cue, the door to the underground archives bursts open, and the change in delicately balanced air pressure turns the liquid solid black.  
  
"Na~tsume~"  
  
Natsume has called Subaru many things; an angel, a star, the sun, beautiful. What he hasn't called him nearly as often as he deserves to be called comes out as a livid hiss between his clenched teeth. "Idiot."  
  
Subaru pauses, back against the door now closed behind him. "Eh?"  
  
"Idiot," Natsume repeats louder, eyes flashing as he picks up the beaker and swirls it, then sets it back down. A hopeless cause. His vicious gaze finds Subaru, his human brilliance out of place in this dark magic-lit underground, and he is an angel and also the sun and also an idiot. "I've been working on that potion for seven hours Now, and you've just ruined it in five Seconds. I should kill you where you Stand."  
  
As always, Subaru seems entirely unfazed, giving him a dazzling smile. "Wouldn't that just be super messy? Messy, me~ssy. You'd have to clean my blood up off the floor and everything."  
  
"I could bottle it and use it to rebirth the potion you just laid waste To," Natsume snaps back without a second thought. He slides a finger under the surgical mask he's been wearing and yanks it down, contemplating whether or not he can still save this. Definitely not. His jaw clenches as Subaru only wanders further into the room, sitting cross-legged next to him as if he has any right to do so. "Who told you that you were Invited? What are you even doing Here?"  
  
"I just wanted to check on you! You've been gone al~l day, and you weren't even in class." Subaru's tone is far too chipper for someone who just upset the balance of Natsume's entire day. For anyone, in general. He pokes idly at a glass jar of something that appears to be a collection of tiny eyeballs. "But it seems like you're fine? Hm, hm, fine down to the murder threats and everything, right?"  
  
Natsume takes a deep breath, centering his intent. Then, he carefully unfolds himself from his place on the floor and slips up onto his hands and knees instead. He slides over Subaru like a snake, bracing his hands on either side of him and hovering over his lap to look him directly in the eye. Finally, though not the fear he seeks, there's a slight bit of anxiety in Subaru's expression. He tilts his head, smirks catlike as he leans in close. "Is it still considered a threat if I intend to go through with It, Baru-kun?"  
  
"Uh," Subaru answers impulsively, seeming rattled in a way that's deliciously satisfying. He swallows. "I guess not, huh?" Then, another smile as he metaphorically flips Natsume onto his back again. "Can I at least have a kiss before you use my blood to summon Satan, or whatever?"  
  
Natsume stares at him for a long moment, mouth pressed into a thin line. Another win for Subaru in whatever game they always seem to be playing. He doesn't understand when this boy stopped being frightened and started being bold, or why it worms its way directly under his skin every single time, or why he almost likes it. He sighs, withdrawing back to his place on the floor and ignoring the way Subaru pouts. "I'm not summoning Satan, but I might consider it if you don't spend the rest of the night helping me fix This. I could use another set of Hands, no matter how Clumsy."  
  
"Okay!" Subaru agrees far too readily, reaching for another of the masks Natsume has laid out. Only then does it seem to occur to him to have questions, blinking at the wide array of strange things sprawled across the carpet. "Ummm, what kind of potion are you making, anyway?"  
  
Natsume can't resist the opening. He really can't. He glances over and flashes Subaru another wicked smirk just before he slips his own mask back over his mouth.  
  
"A love Potion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> references to rocket start and pleiades night for what natsume has called subaru.


	5. dance with me | kaoshu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! rix requested kaoshu + dancing. also, tiny shoutout to dj tsumugi. yumenosaki de make some fucking noise shiteru. enjoy! ♡

Shu exhales an irritated huff for the twelfth time. Halfway through the event, he still doesn't see why formal holiday dances were a necessary addition to Yumenosaki tradition. Most are just using it as an excuse to mingle with their friends or classmates, even as a seemingly downcast Tsumugi tries to play music to coax literally anyone into actually dancing. The other eccentrics have all disappeared for the night, citing various mysterious and questionable obligations, leaving him alone with his back glued to the far wall and his arms crossed over his chest. He would have done the same an hour ago, were he not waiting on Kagehira.  
  
He's beginning to plot the demise of whomever planned this.  
  
It will come twice as swiftly if it's Tenshouin.  
  
Unnoticed until present, Kaoru sweeps into view, leaning down to where Mademoiselle is perched on a fine glass table next to him. "Well hey there, Mademoiselle-chan! You're looking beautiful as always. What, none of the other boys want to dance with such a gorgeous girl?"  
  
His tone is honey smooth, the suit he's wearing a lovely shade of gold that complements him well, and Shu tries not to let his gaze linger. He fluffs up Mademoiselle's skirt for her, her fine dress matching his own blazer in the same rose pink, and lets her voice flow like water. "Fufu, Kaoru-kun, you flatter me~ I could ask you the same. Did the young lady turn you down?"  
  
Kaoru pulls a face at that, ruffling the back of his hair with a sheepish grin. "Haha, nah, nothing like that. I didn't ask her."  
  
This gives Shu pause, his head inclining towards them. He remembers Rei murmuring to him in a bout of gossip over the cup phone about how he suspected Kaoru intended to ask Anzu to dance, about the advice he'd given, about every minute detail. He remembers trying to keep his tone neutral around just as neutral questions even as he pressed his pencil harder into the design sketch he'd been working on at the time.  
  
"Actually, I came here to ask..." Kaoru pauses, glancing up at Shu, who pretends to ignore it. "Do you think Itsuki-kun would like to dance with me?"  
  
Shu's breath may catch in his throat, but that isn't enough to keep Mademoiselle quiet. "Ooh! Oh my goodness, what an intriguing turn of events. Why, I think Shu-kun would be delighted!"  
  
He loves her, but he curses her, quietly. Kaoru rises, eyes on Shu, and now Shu is forced to meet them as the song changes to something slow and soft. He clicks his tongue, hoping the sound will be loud enough to muffle his heartbeat roaring in his ears. "Dance? With me? I do hope you are prepared to suffer the consequences should you tread on my feet, Hakaze."  
  
If Kaoru seems at all put-off by the implied threat, he doesn't show it, simply offering his hand. "I am, but I won't. I practiced."  
  
Shu stares skeptically at the offering, then at the boy himself, back again. Kaoru practiced. He took Rei's advice. Shu huffs for the thirteenth time, this one not quite as irritated, and slowly unfolds his arms to take Kaoru's hand.  
  
It's not nearly as awkward as he expected. Kaoru leads, not particularly well, but Kaoru leads and he doesn't fumble. It's not so much of a proper waltz as it is a diluted attempt at one, but Shu finds he doesn't mind. Kaoru, though clearly nervous and hesitant to look directly at him, isn't one to attempt to fill the silence between them with meaningless chatter, which Shu is thankful for. It lends him more time to simply admire. The glow of the room warms Kaoru like something heavenly, and his touch is light but reassuring. Gentle and warm and guiding in all the ways that Shu is not.  
  
"Hey, Itsuki-kun. You look..." Kaoru starts quietly, eyes finally drifting back up to Shu. Are his cheeks warm, or is it just a play of the light? Either way, he seems to struggle with the phrasing; more of Rei's advice. "I, I mean..."  
  
"You missed a turn by two seconds, Hakaze," Shu says, a shade too scarce to be scolding, and Kaoru's eyes widen a bit and dart away from him with a soft whisper of apology. The topic is dropped as quickly as it was broached, but Shu thinks that's for the best. He can only take so much before he feels as though he may burst out of his skin and do something highly regrettable.  
  
Too soon, or too late, Shu can't quite tell which, the song is over. Kaoru starts to pull away from him, his mouth so clearly full of stumbling words he can't quite say, words Shu suspects he already knows. Rather than watching him embarrass himself further, Shu pulls their joined hands up, bowing slightly to place a chaste kiss to the back of Kaoru's. It's only polite.  
  
He hears, rather than sees, the stuttered and incoherent reaction.  
  
"What a wonderful display, Kaoru-kun," Mademoiselle chimes in happily from the nearby table. Shu rises to find Kaoru paralyzed with shock, his lips parted. "You should ask Shu-kun to dance again sometime!"  
  
It takes a moment for the words to process. Then, Kaoru lights up like the sun, a brilliant smile shining his eyes with something that looks suspiciously like adoration. It is, quite easily, the most artistic sight Shu has seen all night. "Yeah, yeah," Kaoru rushes to say, and then laughs, squeezing Shu's hand before he finally lets it go. "I'll do that." A brief pause. He's looking directly at Shu. "And I won't miss the turn next time."  
  
Later, with a lingering melody and the phantom sensation of Kaoru's hand on his back still present even as Shu collects Kagehira to head home, he thinks he may not mind this new tradition so much after all.


	6. nice things | izuritsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! someone requested izuritsu + cuddling / just sleeping together. enjoy! ♡

The futon is, objectively, not large enough for two people. That's a fact. Another fact is that Ritsu apparently finds it difficult to situate himself comfortably because of this, far too accustomed to sprawling himself across the entire length of furniture like he's determined to take up as much space as possible. A third fact is that it's the middle of the day, which means Izumi is hardly tired in the first place, and all of Ritsu's fussing isn't helping.  
  
At least it's not the coffin.  
  
When Ritsu finally settles, it's with Izumi on his back and Ritsu's arm wrapped around his waist, their legs tangled together and his head resting against Izumi's shoulder. He's so damn clingy. He has a death grip, and there isn't even a pun intended, and Izumi hates that he even entertains the idea that there might be.  
  
"Kuma-kun," he mutters, glancing down at Ritsu. "You're gonna kill me if you keep squeezing like that."  
  
"Hm? I'd bite you and make you immortal before that, thou~gh," Ritsu drawls back at him, unconcerned. Izumi almost mentions that this vampire bullshit has gone quite far enough, but then Ritsu yawns wide like a cat, baring glinting fangs that are just too sharp, and suddenly he doesn't doubt the statement at all. "There's no way I'd ever let Secchan die. Too comfortable."  
  
Izumi grunts, trying to manuever out of Ritsu's boa constrictor hold on him to wrap an arm around Ritsu in return. Eventually, he manages, but it isn't with any help whatsoever. "Haa, so now you show your true colors. You just want me as your pillow."  
  
"Stupid Secchan," Ritsu comments in a drowsy tone. "Not just a pillow. It would be a waste to lose such a pretty face~"  
  
It's more or less impossible for Izumi to pretend the comment doesn't please him far too much, with Ritsu near enough to feel his pulse and the heat radiating from his body. So he doesn't. Instead, he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. "I know I complained about this, but if you keep saying nice things about me I mi~ght just be willing to do it again."  
  
Because somehow Izumi ended up with a stubborn, affection-starved, perpetually fatigued boyfriend who'll say he's beautiful.  
  
Because it's different when Ritsu says it than when photographers, or friends, or even their princesses say it.  
  
Because Ritsu means it, and Ritsu loves him, and Izumi is much more soft than he lets himself admit.  
  
"I don't think it's really your choice, though? I could drag you in here if I wanted to." Ritsu's voice is already steeped in sleep, barely there, but he nuzzles his face into Izumi's chest anyway. Another small yawn. He's really cute, when he's not being impossible. "But a~nyway, Secchan is the most gorgeous thing in the world, so? Of course I'll say nice things. Until the end of time."  
  
Izumi's grip tightens, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. Ritsu really is so devastatingly kind to him without even seeming to think about it. He's still working on letting himself feel like he even deserves that much, but he thinks he might be getting there. With more than a little help.  
  
"Hey, Kuma-kun," he mutters, tilting his head to kiss Ritsu's hair. "Love you."  
  
There's a breath of silence, a fraction of a second where he's left to wonder if perhaps that was a bit too much for the moment, but then he feels the barest whisper of Ritsu's laughter against him.  
  
"Gross," Ritsu replies softly, curling his fingers into Izumi's shirt. "Shut up, Secchan. I'm trying to sleep."  
  
Izumi smiles and relaxes despite himself as Ritsu's breathing slows down. It's an even tempo beneath his hand, so rhythmic he can count it out, and he does, every breath precious and soothing.  
  
He's going to hate himself later if he takes a nap at three in the afternoon.  
  
It's the last thought he can have before he falls asleep.


	7. hostility a spell | natsumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! zene requested natsumu + playing with hair. this turned into a light relationship study on top of that. whoops? enjoy! ♡

Tsumugi has been insisting that Natsume allow him to braid the longer side of his hair ever since they met again. Natsume, in turn, has moved through what he now mentally refers to as The 5 Stages of Dealing With Aoba Tsumugi. Annoyance came first, followed by scorn, who was shortly joined by malice, and they all made friends with threats.  
  
Now, sitting with his arms crossed next to Tsumugi on their -- his -- makeshift bed in the underground archives, he supposes he must have finally arrived at stage five: acceptance.  
  
Well, there's still a bit of stage four lingering.  
  
"If you pull my Hair," Natsume warns as Tsumugi settles in next to him, "I'll make sure your nerve endings can never process anything but pain for the remainder of your Days."  
  
Tsumugi's laughter is the only response. "Don't worry. I won't."  
  
That's it. It's so simple. Tsumugi makes everything so accursedly simple. Natsume still tenses on instinct when Tsumugi's fingers brush through his hair, the sensation unfamiliar, but worse: not altogether unwelcome.  
  
"Ah, Natsume-kun," Tsumugi murmurs. "It's really soft."  
  
Natsume frowns, trying to level a glare over at him, the look obscured by his bangs. "If you value your Life, you'll stop talking Now, Senpai."  
  
Tsumugi huffs another chuckle, but obediently falls quiet. Listens to him, which makes Natsume's heart twist in his chest. How Tsumugi makes him feel is one thing Natsume doesn't want to analyze. It's too muddled and confusing, pity wrapped in a grudge and tied with a bow weaved from Natsume's innate loathing of being understood, hostility a spell that feels right coming out of his mouth and so very wrong when it lands.  
  
Tsumugi thinking he's not worth anything. Natsume reinforcing it, hoping with every bitter word that Tsumugi will finally come alive, hoping that Tsumugi will do the one thing he's never done.  
  
He wants Tsumugi to fight back.  
  
While normally slow and clumsy -- or, at least, that's the lie Natsume lets himself believe -- Tsumugi is surprisingly soft and careful while he combs through Natsume's hair, separates it into sections. Equally so when he starts braiding it, and the tension winds slowly out of Natsume's shoulders as he allows his eyes to fall closed. It's quiet, and the feeling of being cared for is intensely pleasant in a way he didn't account for, and Tsumugi is steady and sure and a hundred other things Natsume wonders if he'll ever be able to tell him properly.  
  
His arms drop from their guarded posture, his hands tucked into his lap, and Tsumugi works. It feels like being lulled under the influence of hypnosis. The silence and Tsumugi's gentle fingers. The silence and Tsumugi's touch.  
  
"Fufu, there we are. You stayed still, Natsume-kun. Good job."  
  
It's over sooner than Natsume even realizes, the words snapping him free of trance, and the moment his eyes are open he's compelled to metaphorically go for the jugular regarding Tsumugi condescending to him. He turns, lips parted. Tsumugi sees him. A soft gasp, a glimmer of fondness in his eyes.  
  
Natsume's mouth snaps closed, and he stares.  
  
"Oh my," Tsumugi breathes, uncharacteristically reverent in a way that makes electricity spark down Natsume's spine. "You look..."  
  
"If the end of that sentence is 'Pretty'," Natsume interjects, eyes flashing with menace at the thought, "it'd be best for you to stop right There."  
  
Tsumugi shakes his head slowly. "Oh, no, that doesn't sound quite right." He pauses, presses his fingers over his mouth in thought. Natsume's gaze tracks the movement. "I think it's something more like, ah, breathtaking?"  
  
A wave of heat across his skin, and for once, Natsume has to look away. He casts his eyes down, biting his lower lip to ground himself. He can't give an inch, not here. His response still comes far too late to be acceptable, and a shade too faint to be threatening. "Don't say stupid Things, Senpai."  
  
When Tsumugi falls asleep against him right in the middle of studying that night, Natsume's less than subtle attempts to jostle him awake and away are met with no response. He could absolutely wake him if he truly wanted to, but Tsumugi won't be of any use to him if he's tired. That's the only reason he doesn't -- or, at least, that's the lie Natsume lets himself believe.  
  
Morbidly curious, he runs his hand through Tsumugi's hair. It's silky to the touch. Tsumugi leans into him with a pleased little sigh.  
  
Natsume lets him sleep, and leaves the braid in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vague reference to pleiades night regarding the bed in the archives, and... sort of everything else.


	8. holy crescendo | shuleo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a request from [this](https://twitter.com/blueonis/status/1068974265427509257) list! leo requested shuleo + public displays of affection. i love this ship so much this ran away from me and could easily be included with my one shots or posted standalone, but it goes with the rest of these requests, so it lives here now. enjoy! ♡

Shu seems to have lost sight of his first rule while attending Yumenosaki, that rule being: don't show any romantic inclination towards anyone you're schoolmates with, because it will only end poorly.  
  
Now, Shu also seems to have lost sight of his second rule while attending Yumenosaki, that rule being: don't show any romantic inclination towards Tsukinaga Leo in particular, because it will only end in tragedy and disaster.  
  
The two of them are legends of the Academy in their own right by now, their reputation preceding them, existing somewhere amongst fable and myth whispered only in the dead of night. Remarkable prodigies, quarreling leaders and star-spun rivals whose impassioned debates on creative expression and the symbolism therein could send long-dead and esteemed critics spinning in their graves. The wonderful crescendo of their conflict spills down through the hearts of their units, the royal raising blessed swords to the ancient gates of Valhalla. Wartorn knights and haunted valkyries. King and Sovereign.  
  
Even when Leo dissipated into thin air and Shu became a member of the chosen slain himself, this remained true. Both returned broken, yet returned to their fate nonetheless. The Sovereign nurturing drops of the reckless King's spilled blood into blooming roses. The King repairing the stubborn Sovereign's broken diadem and placing it back atop his head.  
  
Shu calling Leo a classless beast, and Leo calling Shu a faux noble.  
  
Both of them grinning death at one another across the stage of their destiny.  
  
The thing is, Shu has no concept of when this gorgeous tale of victory and defeat trailed into territory he never anticipated crossing. There had always been something there, to be sure, lingering in the tension that built like a storm between them. A nameless thing, or at the very least a thing he wasn't willing to put a name to. Leo's rebirth from the ashes and his own biting and clawing from the abyss seems to only have encouraged it. Leo is still all daggers, merely tucked away and hidden up his sleeves. Shu is still all command, merely letting the strings of fate slide slack in his fingers.  
  
Perhaps it's this, the baring of their humanity, that inevitably draws them together. Perhaps it's the day the King pulled the Sovereign out of the embittered cold and set him free to live again. Perhaps it's the realization that they, the royal, the flawed, the puppeteers, understand one another on a level beyond this plane of the tedious and temporal.  
  
Perhaps it's this that causes Leo to find it acceptable to jump into Shu's arms in the middle of the hallway the moment they lock eyes.  
  
Leo is small, and Shu's strength is inhuman considering his delicate stature, but he nearly drops Leo anyway. Just to do it. Nevertheless, he finds his hold full of a wild mass of orange hair and bright green eyes, hands that are unusually cold against the back of his neck, a fanged grin that could lay waste to the dawn itself. "Missed you, Shu~"  
  
Shu scowls, his brow furrowing. Students are staring. He's truly tempted to let go. "Must you be so shameless, Tsukinaga? It is the middle of the day."  
  
"Wahaha! You're really still so hung up on your image, huh? You never change, ne~ver change~" Leo laughs, his voice resounding down the hallway. "Flawless God Itsuki Shu, what a hilarious joke. That can eat shit. You're human. You bleed. I've seen it." That grin turning feral, a flash of Leo's tongue. "Which also means you can kiss me riiight now, and no one's going to care nearly as much as you seem to think they will."  
  
Scoffing, Shu shakes his head even as a delighted rush of adrenaline spikes through him. Leo always seems to get under his skin that way, but not here, not now. "Simply because the fallen King no longer cares for the way others view his kingdom, that does not mean I am required to feel the same." He doesn't, he tells himself firmly, a thrill radiating through his veins when Leo leans closer with intrigue sparking in his eyes. "Some of us do still desire to uphold our reputation, you know. Now quit acting like a child and get down."  
  
"Hmmm?" Leo mocks, raising his eyebrows. "Acting like a child? You sure are describing _one_ of us here~ One of us who's acting selfish and stubborn and stupid. Not to mention taking some low blows, too. Like I said, you ne~ver change." He cocks his head to the side, his ponytail so loose it's almost free, looking with his gemstone eyes so like a creature who doesn't belong here that it feels as though Shu's mind struggles to reconcile him with reality. "What if your silly reputation doesn't have a say in the matter?"  
  
Shu finally drops him, but Leo's arms are already wrapped tight around his shoulders, and the kiss he presses to Shu's mouth is firm and rebellious and fantastic. Shu gasps in tandem with the rest of their audience, and this, too, feels like a performance, like a battle they were always fated to wage, but before he can counterstrike Leo is already dropping down and pulling away.  
  
He looks so insufferably smug as he steps back, licking his lips, leaving Shu flushed and furious. Shu has to clench his hands into fists to find the self-control not to grab him and wipe that look right off of his face, but he can at least sharpen his outrage into a threat. "Mark my words, I will slay you for this, Tsukinaga."  
  
Leo laughs again, the sound glorious in its discordance, but the look he fixes Shu with is fatal. "Will you, dear Sovereign? I sure hope that's a promise."  
  
As if nothing happened, Leo slips through the students who've gathered around them and disappears as quickly as he appeared. Shu takes to barking back the masses to channel the fervent burning right beneath his skin into something proper and productive.  
  
He always knew it would end in such a manner. King and Sovereign. They were never destined to harmonize. Tragedy and disaster. He broke his own rule, or allowed it to be broken, and now he must pay the price for it.  
  
No prospect has ever been more exhilarating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> references to monochrome checkmate for establishing how close they are, their reputation as equals and their habit of debating, and to knights starfes for a lot of the rest of this, right up to leo saying "eat shit". also, very vague reference to horror night halloween and the resulting parallels drawn between shu and leo. please join me in loving this rarepair.


End file.
